books

Troy

Posted on by cdjcollings

Today I am thinking about someone who I haven’t thought of in a very long time. I will call him Troy. I pick this name to suggest his appearance because his style reminds me of Troy Donahue, teen idol from the 60’s.

Troy always wore denim jeans, penny loafers (with no pennies) and white tee shirts. And like Troy Donahue, he was tall and lean. We shared everything. He was my neighbor, living just a few houses from mine so we were together almost everyday. We understood each other. We shared so much. We spent hours just lying beside each other on his bed, drinking sodas and watching tv or just being happy and feeling the comfort of having someone with whom no explanation was necessary. We looked at each other and smiled, laughed at how it seemed that actually, nothing needed to be said. We recognized how we may have seemed to others. We laughed at that too. We shared rites of passage that we both protected each other from, somehow.

A Call of the Wild written by Jack London, was a grammar school reading assignment. The story inspired us so Troy and I decided to take a walk during a gently falling snow. We ventured toward the woods, imagining the storyline for ourselves. Troy wore a denim jacket and boots. I was more appropriately dressed for the season. We talked and walked until at some point I realized the snow was more intense and that we would have to walk as far as we had come in order to get back home. We headed back as the snow intensified. Troy took the lead as the space between us grew. But we remained focused on each other. He waited for me to catch up so that he could wave good bye as I passed his house. My house was just ahead. I collapsed in front of the heater in the foyer, cold and exhausted. Glancing in my direction with a hint of knowing I’d been up to something, Mother only reminded me to be prepared for supper. And as usual, I was.

When the Beatles came on the scene, Troy and I were totally blown away. From my black and white radio, one night before school, I heard The Beatles for first time on the Hy Lit radio program. I was sure Troy was listening too. The next day, as soon as school was over, I ran to his house. When he opened the door he knew why I was there. We had the same response. “Who are these guys??” We were hooked.

Troy and I knew each other’s heart. We were so much alike in so many ways. We were together as much as our parent’s would allow. We didn’t annoy each other like friends can do at times. We never had an argument. As close as we were, our relationship never ventured beyond friendship. We never seemed curious about or the need for anything more. Most relationships are based on something specific, it seems. But with us, it was everything about him and everything about me. We truly understood and loved each other, untarnished, pure, and innocent. We laughed about everything and shared our dreams. He wanted to become a cowboy and he eventually moved to Montana and became a cowboy. I wanted to be a ballerina. Starting late in life, I became a ballet dancer. I remember wanting to share this with him but by then so much of life had transpired and we lost contact. But I know he would have smiled that wonderful smile and hug me if he knew.

When I heard this song by Bruce Springsteen I thought, “My gosh, this is us!!”

Bobbi Jean:

https://youtu.be/iGR_Rk74tOk?list=RDiGR_Rk74tOk

Char

My Father

Posted on by cdjcollings

It is probably not a good idea to anticipate approval from other people.

They will resent you for this.

Harsh but true, they may even have contempt for you.

If it exists at all, your value is a self-determination. If people are drawn to you, they have the assumption that you are self-assured, just as they are self-assured. Otherwise, with the feeling that they may not be able to trust their instincts, they will loathe having taken notice of you.

If you are a mature adult, why would you look toward others to inform you of your value?

Respect that this is self-work and part of what people notice about you, especially when it is missing.

I’m writing this after finding a note to myself written a long time ago about a friend, a beautiful woman. She was never pleased with herself, no matter what she wore or how she styled her hair. I didn’t understand the problem until I noticed her interaction with a man that she wanted to know.

We were out together with another girlfriend. There was an attractive man walking toward where we were sitting. It was clear that he was focused on her. Though she already had his attention, she proceeded with swinging her hair from side to side, and sitting provocatively, more animated, etc.. She was embarrassing and so obvious that I looked toward the guy to see his response to her. He actually looked disappointed as his wide smile softened by the time he reached us. He probably expected a different response, perhaps just a little more reserved. He was polite and generous, ordering drinks all around. He stayed long enough to finish his drink and make a graceful exit back to his friends.

She was one of my best friends. And I remember that she had a terrible relationship with her father. He was never pleased with anything that she did. He was cold and critical.

Finding and reading this note to myself from so long ago, I think of how my dad was with me. He has been gone for a long time now. Though I have never given any thought about our relationship in comparison to my friend’s with her father, I think of it now.

May dad was a quiet man, so it is easy to remember the things that he said, and the consistent and reliable support that he was for me. Being the last of six children, it seems to me now that my father was aware of how I could get lost in the crowd of our family. He let me know that he could see me. One of my favorite memories is that at the end of the week on Friday evenings, so that I wouldn’t miss his arrival, I colored in my coloring book on the living room floor, waiting for him to return home from work. He’d walk in and without stopping or saying a word, he’d toss a Clark bar onto my coloring book. This was the rare thing as there were no extras in our family of 9.

My father was a busy and hard-working man with a lot of responsibilities to our family. And he also made time to let me know that noticed me. Just between the two of us, that Clark bar was a powerful gesture. It is an amazing thing that thinking about those times, I can still feel how I felt then, when I was 6 years old. My father always reminded me of how I could become whatever I could imagine. He said that often.

I don’t think my girlfriend got that message about herself.

My wish is that those of us who feel empty or unseen by the world could realize that we are amazing, every one of us is an amazing human being.

Parents provide this awareness through their love for us, but sometimes they themselves are also injured in the same way, by their parents. They don’t know how even if they want to be a better parent for their children. Unfortunately, feeling inadequate to give what the child is so needing, a parent’s reaction to this may be criticism and ridicule, for what they didn’t realize was missing in themselves. It is a desperate and harmful reaction for sure. Both the child and the parent are at a loss for understanding and both experience pain and longing.

But the truth is that we are made in His image, in the image of God, The Creator. If we believe this, then we can heal ourselves and we can forgive others. With this knowing, we can repair our hearts and love ourselves and those that have hurt us.

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

Genesis 1:27

Everyone of us is beautiful and amazing, every one.

Remember this about yourself.

Love,

Char